


If you're still breathing (you're the lucky ones)

by CrystallizedInsomniac



Category: Tokyo Ghoul, Tokyo Ghoul:re
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Developing Relationship, Emotional Sex, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mutsuki-centric, Other, Slow Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 12:34:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5585545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystallizedInsomniac/pseuds/CrystallizedInsomniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There would be no one to tell because Shirazu's family, his family were them. And it was too damn hard to grieve when all they could feel was hatred, hatred towards themselves, for not doing enough, for not saving him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If you're still breathing (you're the lucky ones)

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt: http://crystallizedinsomniac.tumblr.com/post/136293324734/can-you-try-an-angst-smut-mixup-i-live-for-it

Things got quiet in the chateau after Shirazu's death.

 

It wasn't that it was usually loud around the chateau, far from it. As close as they all were, afternoons were spent mostly in solitude, in the confines of each person's room or designated area that they claimed as theirs. So it wasn't the lack of sounds that disturbed Mutsuki as much as the lack of the energy which the chateau was notorious for having.

 

_It's not easy, but it'll get easier with time_ was what Suzuya had told him, but it didn't matter, because the hours and days went by and instead of getting easier it became harder — harder to smile, harder to feel at ease, harder to push away the feelings of not being competent enough, of not having done harder to avoid the situation. Death wasn't a stranger, investigators danced with death nearly every time they went out on missions. Everyone had a date with death in the end, it was just that civilians were at arm's length. Investigators danced flushed to her, and not all managed to escape her grasp.

 

It was difficult, strange, upsetting. It was understanding, understanding of what their co-workers went through whenever someone from their squad didn't make it out alive. It was having the heart to tell the investigator's family what had happened to them, to grieve with them. It was to realize that the quinxs, they weren't untouchable like they made themselves out to believe — and Mutsuki, he, he wants to punch himself because despite the fact that they didn't see themselves are far superior, they at least saw a small boost, one that helped them out to come out alive each time — and it was also realization that there would be no one to deliver the news.

 

There would be no one because they saw it happen. There would be no one to tell because Shirazu's family, his family were them. And it was too damn hard to grieve when all they could feel was hatred, hatred towards themselves, for not doing enough, for not saving him.

 

They didn't have to say it for Mutsuki to know it. He could tell by the lost look on Saiko's eyes, he could tell by the way Urie closed up on himself.

 

He could definitely tell when he woke up one morning to a crying Saiko, and there were no words exchanged for him to know what happened. Later on, he would find the living room empty, Urie's room locked up and Sasaki's room empty.

 

——

 

 He won't lie. He was caught extremely off guard when the sudden crash-like sound woke him up from his nap. Mutsuki ended up sitting up quickly, heart beating against his ribcage so fast that it almost seemed like it was trying to escape.

 

He rubs his eyes, looking around with bleary eyes. The living room was empty, and he didn't exactly expect for anyone to be here. After Sasaki had relieved his duties as their mentor, Saiko and Urie had taken up to holing themselves up in their rooms and Mutsuki didn't bother them, it was still too soon for him to do anything to cheer them up even if a bit.

 

So of course, no one would be in the living room, or in the halls. He steals a quick glance to a nearby wall-clock and feels his brows furrow slightly. Yawning, he stands up and stretches his muscles, having fallen asleep for a quick nap on the couch while he waited for Saiko.

 

Mutsuki couldn't help the faint smile that painted itself on his lips. Saiko had woken up early today, and while her attitude wasn't even remotely close to what it once used to be, it was some sort of progress. She had wanted to go out to get the groceries, and while Mutsuki didn't know if it was because she couldn't stand the silence anymore or decided that she couldn't live grieving her whole life — which didn't mean that she couldn't feel sad — he still felt something resembling relief bubbling up in his chest.

 

All he knows is that it's good, because it's a small step. He's sure Shirazu wouldn't want _this._ Them stop functioning because of his death, because Haise left. Because it hurt to know that they couldn't do anything but watch him bleed and—

 

He swallows, shakes his head. Ignores the way his eyes water and he rubs them, takes a deep breath. Again, another sound echoes in the empty house and it's much, _much_ louder.

 

Mutsuki doesn't call out, because it doesn't feel right, he doesn't want to be the one to break the silence. Even when Saiko came to speak to him, it was all done in hushed whispers — and if they're trembling and insecure and all sad, then he doesn't mention it, doesn't acknowledge it — so he doesn't want to break it.

 

Again, more sounds, smashing, breaking. Then the undeniable sound of a door _slamming_ and then angry stomps throughout the halls. At first, he tenses slightly, fear creeping into his brain.

 

It couldn't be a burglar right? They wouldn't be that noisy. But then he shakes those thoughts away, because if someone would've broken in, he would've known. 

 

When he doesn't move from his spot and he watches a shadow slowly making itself darker and closer, then a second later, Urie walks around the corner and into the living room. Mutsuki has probably at least four seconds to realize that there's something wrong with Urie.

 

It's in the way he stands, shoulders slumped forward, like there's a huge weight on them. His pale skin looking sickler, making the bags under his eyes more prominent. His black hair a mess, like he had been pulling at it. He's still in his pajamas, Mutsuki notices, and his whole body is tense, fists clenching and unclenching.

 

When Urie walks forward, Mutsuki takes notice of the splotches of paint on his hands and Urie still hasn't said anything. Still hasn't talked.

 

"Urie." He says and flinches, it wasn't loud, but it's certainly noticeable with the silence.

 

Urie visibly stiffens even more before he blinks, doesn't even bother turning his body to face Mutsuki. Simply tilts his head just so, his eyes widen slightly — like he wasn't expecting Mutsuki to be here — and he opens his mouth, Mutsuki's eyes end up there.

 

And all of the sudden he feels weirded out. 

 

Ever since the Auction Raid, there's been something between the two of them, and besides the occasional activities done in Urie's bedroom and the unusual cuddle sessions, they haven't really named what they have, and what's with Shirazu's passing, it was simply something that didn't seem to matter at the time.

 

But now, looking at Urie, Mutsuki realizes that they do matter and there's a loneliness that settles in his heart and _squeezes_ just so. Urie hasn't bothered to come out of his room whenever Mutsuki or Saiko were outside their own rooms, and while it pained Mutsuki to not go out to comfort his — boyfriend? — his— Urie. Urie. He couldn't help but feel sad, because he also didn't seek him out and Mutsuki was too preoccupied grieving himself.

 

He's far from accepting it, the fact that Shirazu isn't coming back, but at least he acknowledges it. That he's dead and the least they could do was to pay their respects, grieve the amount of time necessary and move on.

 

He knows just how dangerous it is to cling to the past, to the negative and the bad.

 

Urie still hasn't said anything, and still hasn't moved. So Mutsuki does, takes a step forward because it seems like the right thing to do. He watches as Urie's face goes through various emotions, scared and then angry, then he schools it back into indifference.

 

He takes another step forward and Urie's fists clench.

 

"What?" He snaps, and the tone would've made Mutsuki back away. But that was _then_ , and this is now, and right now. Right now, Mutsuki knows that there is no bite to his words. He's just pulling out the masks, and Mutsuki doesn't want this.

 

"How are you feeling?" He asks, and grabs Urie's wrist, squeezes it in a comforting gesture and Urie's eyes run down his arm, settles them on the hand on his wrist and Mutsuki takes notice of the slight tremble that shakes Urie's body.

 

Once, twice.

 

"Why would you care?" He mumbles, tone bitter like acid and then he makes to pull away his arm, tugging, but the action is half-hearted and it makes Mutsuki sigh. "Let go."

 

Mutsuki's really tired. And if that's why Urie stops pulling, because he notices, then Mutsuki doesn't say anything. He still hasn't let go.

 

"You know," Mutsuki starts after a few beats, and locks eyes with Urie's. They're cold, tired and unlike Urie. Mutsuki realizes that he misses Urie's eyes, the expressive ones. "Shirazu wouldn't want this." The shutting out, the constant sadness, the pitiful and hatred aura that they all sported. 

 

It's instantaneous, Mutsuki notes, when at the mention of Shirazu's name, Urie's whole face contorts into that of rage and he snarls.

 

" _Don't,_ " Urie hisses out, "Don't you fucking dare put words on his mouth." 

 

Urie takes a step forward, completely ignoring the fact that Mutsuki's opening his mouth to apologize, but Urie's having none of that because the next second, he's pried his hand away and is jamming a finger into his chest. Mutsuki almost stumbles, but catches his footing. 

 

"He didn't fucking ask to die, he wouldn't want to. Never did, all he wanted was to get enough money for his sister and we couldn't do shit to help him out. Of course he didn't want any of this," He leans in closer and Mutsuki's lips thin out. "Because Shirazu didn't have plans of dying you inconsiderate fucker, how _dare_ you ask me how I'm feeling, as if I weren't sad, as if I didn't feel like shit, like a fucking _piece of shit_ because I couldn't do _anything_ to save him!."

 

_"_ Why don't you ask Haise how _he's_ feeling? Huh? Afterall, he did leave, _left us_." Urie's breathing hitches, and Mutsuki instantly realizes that he's swallowing a sob.

 

He can't help it really, Urie's words dug uncomfortable into his chest. So instead of focusing on the feelings that are making it quite difficult to breathe, difficult to concentrate on not crying, Mutsuki raises one hand, cups Urie's cheek.

 

"I'm asking you because I worry." Mutsuki says, whispers. "Because I know it's hard, because I miss him. Because I also feel horrible because I... no, _we_ couldn't do anything to stop it. Because I'm tired, tired of feeling sad and feeling worthless and tired of blaming myself. Because I'm tired of seeing all of us like this, tired of not feeling."

 

And dammit, he wasn't going to cry. But he can already feel the single lone tear rolling down his cheek, he can see the way Urie's eyes follow it, and his body shakes. 

 

"So Urie," and he swallows, finding it difficult, his throat is closing up, "I'm asking you: how are you feeling?"

 

Urie doesn't say anything, only stares at Mutsuki. They stay like that, the silence of the chateau isn't uncomfortable, simply heavy and Mutsuki can't stop staring at Urie's dark eyes. Urie at one point, drops the finger he had on Mutsuki's chest and he lets out a shaky breath.

 

"I don't." He says, so low, that Mutsuki thinks it might have been his imagination. But he knows it's not, he definitely felt the huff of air with both words spoken, and then he leans in, closer and Urie places his cool hand against Mutsuki's cheek, wipes away the tear with his thumb. "Fuck, Mutsuki. _I don't._ "

 

It's probably not the best idea, it's probably one of the stupidest things he's done and Mutsuki will _not_ cry if Urie pushes him away, tells him that he's fucked up, for wanting this at at time like this. But all hesitation leaves when he closes the gap between them, lips flushed against each other. 

 

Urie lets out the tiniest gasp and Mutsuki presses himself forward, because he's allowed this. He's allowed to feel something. It doesn't take long before Urie does something, moves, because when Mutsuki's about to pull away, insecure of his actions, Urie sneaks both arms around his waist and pulls him closer.

 

That's all the invitation Mutsuki needs. He captures Urie's lips once more in a soft movement, enjoying the need to just be close, to be warm and to swallow each and every little sound that moves from Urie's mouth.

 

At one point, they end up on the couch. Mutsuki's not really sure how, but he can't find the will to care. All he cares about is Urie's body flush against his, and how, when Urie separates — Mutsuki having to look up at him because he's laying down on the couch — he's breathing deeply, and his eyes are uncertain.

  
Mutsuki pulls him back down, nips at his bottom lip and when Urie lets out a small whimper, he licks his lip. Urie pulls back once more, although he doesn't separate enough, only until their noses are touching.

 

"I'm sorry," He says, and Mutsuki can tell that he's trying too hard to just not give in and fall, his body is trembling just slightly, "I'm sorry, sorry."

 

Mutsuki swallows once more, tries to offer Urie a comforting smile but he knows it fails, it wavers and Urie's breathing too quick for his liking, so he caresses his face, arms.

 

"S'okay," Mutsuki mumbles and then pulls himself upwards just slightly with his elbows, captures Urie's lips once more in a deeper kiss and tells himself to ignore the fact that the kiss screams out desperation and it makes his chest tighten just so. He makes Urie forget about the trembling, runs his hands through Urie's hair and pulls him even closer. Hips flushed, he doesn't miss the way Urie's breathing hitches and then he rolls his hips down once more.

 

Mutsuki breaks the kiss when he lets out a whimper, heat going through his body instantly. Urie's breathing is loud and hard against his ear and he's still rolling his hips, erection pressing into his dampening briefs — sue him, he sleeps on his underwear — with sharp but slow motions.

 

When Mutsuki's nails dig into Urie's arm, because it's either that or letting out a moan that almost managed to slip by his lips, the dark-haired male opens his eyes and Mutsuki notices that his eyes are hazy, clouded with pure lust. There was something flickering there, fear, hesitation.

 

"We shouldn't, we—" Urie began but couldn't find the words, he let out a cut-off groan when Mutsuki pushed his hip upwards, seeking friction with Urie's erection.

"It's okay," He says, looks at Urie in the eyes so he can see that he's not going to back down, "It's okay Urie."

Urie bites his lip though, clearly knowing that there's more to Mutsuki's words. Because he knows just as much as Mutsuki does, that this isn't going to solve anything, it isn't going to make them feel any better later, but later would not come. Right now, even if it weren't forever, right now, Mutsuki wants to allow themselves to feel _something._

 

_Please,_ Mutsuki begs with his eyes and Urie closes his. 

 

A second later, Urie lowers himself just a bit more, scoots forward so his face is resting on Mutsuki's neck and shivers. Mutsuki ignores this, decides to ignore it. He arches his back when Urie's fingers dips slightly into his crotch, covered by the briefs, the pressure sending another jolt of heat to go through his body and lets out a sigh.

 

"You're wet," Urie comments — there's a certain shakyness to his voice that doesn't go unnoticed — as he slips his finger inside the briefs, his fingers ghosting slightly over Mutsuki's folds and he can't help the small whine that leaves his lips.

 

Mutsuki hums, tilting his head slightly when Urie turns to his neck, hot breath tickling his skin. The heaviness in his chest wasn't leaving and he wanted it to go away so badly because he couldn't concentrate on feeling anything other than feelings related to sadness.

 

Urie lowered down his briefs, squeezed Mutsuki's thighs in the process before pressing two fingers in between Mutsuki's slick folds, and Mutsuki whimpered, hips raising forwards just slightly.

 

"Do you...Do you—" Urie choked and Mutsuki didn't need to be told what he was asking, shaking his head, he gripped Urie's shoulder slightly, trying to get him to look at him. Urie wouldn't move, so Mutsuki left him there, chest pressed flush against his and erection pressing inside Mutsuki's tigh.

 

"No, just..." Mutsuki bites his tongue when Urie nods, and slowly presses both fingers inside, the movement eased by the green-haired male's arousal. Mutsuki lets out a small moan and shifts slightly when Urie pulls back out slowly before thrusting in.

 

Urie doesn't set an specific pace, he simply thrusts in and out, scissors him open to stretch him but doesn't do much more, leaves it at two fingers and this all the while eliciting little mewls and whimpers out of Mutsuki's lips. 

 

"Urie, _please._ " Mutsuki begs and then when he feels Urie nod, does he realize that his face feels wet and it takes him a second to realize that he's crying. 

 

But he doesn't want _that_ , he's allowed,   _they're_ allowed to feel something!

 

That was the thing about crying, once he realizes that he is, he can't help but keep on crying. So he's too concentrated on the burning of his eyes, the blurriness in his vision, when Urie begins to move, lowers his pants — all the while remaining in a position where Mutsuki's not able to look at his face even though it wouldn't be possible because tears were still spilling out of his eyes — and then presses the head of his cock to Mutsuki's entrance.

 

Mutsuki lets out a gasp and then sobs, turning his face to the side. Urie freezes and then starts to shake, Mutsuki doesn't know why.

 

"Mutsuki?" Urie asks.

 

"It's fine, 's," He lets out another sob, closes his eyes. "It's fine Urie, keep going, _please."_  


Urie's shaky sigh is drowned out by Mutsuki's own moaning when Urie begins to move in deeper, and when his hips end up flushed to Mutsuki, who's breathing heavily due to the feeling of being filled, Urie lets out another tremor take over his body, before he buries his head once more in Mutsuki's shoulder.

 

Mutsuki's eyes widen when he feels the wetness that's beginning to pool in his shoulder, but doesn't say anything when he hears a sob just much like his own and Urie begins to pull out slowly before pushing back in.

 

Urie ends up seeking Mutsuki's hand, and when he finds it, he grips it. Mutsuki understands right away and grips it back. They both settle into a slow rhythm, nothing alike the pace they usually take whenever they had sex. It's not uncomfortable, it's not bad, it's just oddly _intimate_ and it makes Mutsuki ache.

 

He's still crying, sobs and whimpers and little sounds of pleasure escaping his mouth, only heard by Urie. Urie, who's pressed completely to Mutsuki, moving slowly as if to cherish this moment, to not let go. The grip he has on Mutsuki's hand tightens whenever Urie pulls back in and hits the spot that makes Mutsuki's toes curl, a shaky moan escaping his lips.

 

"Urie," Mutsuki calls out as Urie pushes back in, bottoming out and hitting that spot again. However, Urie doesn't bother listening to him, simply pulls back and with a bitch much strength, pushes back in, hitting that spot once more, and again, and again.

 

Mutsuki can't help the breathless moans that are pulled out of his lips, arches his back and presses himself even more into Urie's body on top of him, the thin layer of cloth between them — because they didn't take off their shirts — sticking to their bodies because of the sweat.

 

"Urie, please." Mutsuki nudges him with his free hand, " _please_."

 

Please, but he doesn't know what he wants. Doesn't know how to stop the tears, doesn't know how to stop the feeling of his throat closing up. 

 

Urie doesn't need to be told, Mutsuki begins to whisper out little cut-off moans, and Urie simply drives in again and Mutsuki shimply crumbles. He can feel his orgasm ripping through his body and his toes curl, he's aware of the long-drawn out moan he lets out, feels Urie stiffen because his cock is still buried inside and his release is causing his walls to tighten. Then a second later, Urie pulls out and with a low moan shoots his load on Mutsuki's stomach.

 

When he can finally regain enough sense, Urie's looking at him, eyes red and puffy and crystalline-like. There's silent tears running down his face and Mutsuki can't help it, he uses his free hand — because the other is still holding onto Urie's hand — to wipe them away before cupping his cheek, leans in and kisses Urie once more.

 

It's slow, deep and desperate and Urie crumbles because of it. Mutsuki can feel the tears hitting his cheeks and he doesn't mind, because he's also crying. He swallows each and every sob that Urie utters out and when they're done kissing and Urie simply slumps against him — clearly not caring about getting himself dirty with his own cum — and rests his head in the crook of his neck, silent sobs rocking through his body. Mutsuki squeezes his hand.

 

"It's going to be okay," He says, but doesn't know if it's to himself or to Urie. 

**Author's Note:**

> I think I broke my own heart while writing this, haha.  
> You guys can thank noheichou for this, I had to write it as soon as I got the prompt (thank you!)
> 
> Title is taken from **Daughter** 's song **Youth.**
> 
> As always, you guys can come leave prompts on my tumblr or simply talk to me hmmm: crystallizedInsomniac.tumblr


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